Blood Relations
by boswifedeb
Summary: After more than a year of tracking down those responsible for putting out a hit on him, the final piece of the puzzle is left to place. Matt is drawn into a showdown with his drug lord cousin Diego in Mexico. There is more than just his life on the line when worlds collide and things are forever changed. Rated T for violence. **Immediately follows "Domino Effect".
1. Chapter 1

Blood Relations

" _Your hand's upon a deadman's gun and you're  
Lookin' down the sights  
Your heart is worn and the seams are torn, and they've  
Given you a reason to fight"_

 _Deadman's Gun by Ashtar Command_

 **01**

 _1977 - The Mendoza home just outside of Juarez_

" _Hijo_ , please. Who are these people that you have invited to our home?" Jaime Mendoza had quietly pulled his eldest son aside.

"These are my friends, _padre_. We are in business together." Fernando looked over his shoulder at the three men that were loudly laughing and drinking in the family home.

"Business? You work in our family's business."

"Yes, and there will be some changes."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that my _compadres_ and I will be running things from now on."

The older man was quiet for a moment. "I am the head of the family, Fernando. You had best remember that. Get these men out of here - _immediamente_!"

The group had overheard the last part of the conversation and their laughter disappeared, replaced with angry expressions. "What is this, Fernando? You told us you had everything under control."

"And I do." He turned back to his father. "I'm not a child; you can no longer order me around. Instead…" Pushing the older man backward roughly he advanced on him. "You will be silent. Or else you will die." In an instant a knife was at Jaime's throat.

"You have become a stranger to the family. I don't even know who you are anymore. Your mother believes you are being influenced by drugs." Laughter burst from the strangers and Fernando gave his father an evil smile.

"Be quiet, old man."

"Get out - you and your friends." Jaime pushed his son back a couple of feet. "They are not welcome here and neither are you until you change your ways."

The son turned away from him as if to leave and then suddenly spun back around, the knife in his hand viciously slashing at his father over and over until the elder Mendoza lay in a puddle of blood on the floor, his dead eyes staring at the ceiling of his home while the young men in the room laughed. Fernando's mother, Topsana, had heard the commotion and arrived in the room just as her husband crumpled to the floor, the sound of her screams reaching outside the house where her other two children were walking toward the house from the barn. Both ran into the den and stopped as they took in the sight.

Arturo Mendoza knelt by his father's side while his sister Carmen tried to comfort their mother. "What happened?" He looked to his brother who calmly began wiping the blood from the knife on the tail of his shirt.

"He didn't do as he was told."

The younger brother got to his feet as the other men in the room continued to laugh. "What are you talking about?"

"I informed him that he was no longer in charge - I am." Angling the knife in the rays of sunshine that came through the front window he looked to the three other members of the family. "Unless you want to end up like him, you will do as I say without argument."

Arturo stared at his brother in disbelief. "You have lost your mind, Fernando. Carmen, call the _policia_." As the young woman took a step toward the telephone on the table her oldest brother grabbed her by the wrist, jerking her savagely in front of him and holding the knife to her throat.

"Fernando, please!" Their mother stepped toward the pair. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Now…" He grazed his sister's neck with the weapon. "From now on you will all do as you're told…or else. As for our dear _padre_ , a _bandito_ attacked him as he was checking on his precious herd. Arturo, you will take him out to the west pasture."

"I will not."

"You will - or one of you three will die." Fernando walked behind the two women who both stood trembling. "Take him - now." A wicked smile spread across his face as his brother stooped to pick up the body of their father. "And hurry back. If you're gone too long you will have another body to move." The laughter of the three men followed Arturo as he carried his father from the house and out to the pickup that was parked outside.

One of the strangers stood and approached the family. "So Fernando, is this the little _chiquita_ that you told me about?"

"She is. Carmen, this is Marcos - your future husband." Roughly, he took her by the arm and pushed her toward the man.

Defiance shone from her eyes. "No."

"Yes." Marcos Sarabia grabbed her and began touching her.

"Fernando, you will do no such thing." Topsana attempted to pull her daughter from the stranger and was shoved to the floor as Carmen attempted to wrestle free of the man who smelled of stale sweat, smoke, and tequila.

"Baby sister, you will be married to Marcos in two days. And if you even think about trying to defy me…" He pointed the knife to their mother. "But right now you two will go make us a meal."

Carmen helped her mother back onto her feet and the two disappeared into the back of the house, the sound of raucous laughter following them.

Once inside the kitchen, both women began crying. "Carmen, you have to leave here tonight."

"I can't. He'll kill you and Arturo."

"You must. You will need to cross the border to be safe."

 _Two weeks later in Lubbock, TX..._

"Table six - and don't take all night." The bartender gruffly shoved the tray at the waitress, smirking as part of the beer slopped out of the pitcher and onto the front of her shirt.

"You shouldn't treat her like that, Mark." Josh, the younger brother of the two, was getting a deposit together and witnessed the exchange, grimacing as his brother stared lecherously after the young woman who had shown up about a week earlier looking for work. Both knew that she was illegally in the states, but also knew that cheap labor paid under the table lowered their overhead and increased the profits.

"Don't worry, little brother. I plan on treating her real good later."

"Leave her alone; she ain't like that."

"Just another tramp."

Over at table six the young waitress carefully placed the pitcher of beer on the table trying to ignore that fact that for the fourth time that night, one of the men had rubbed a hand up the back of her thigh. The only one at the table who hadn't bothered her now threw down his cards on top of the chips and money that had been tossed into the middle of the poker game that he had been winning. Standing up quickly and taking her by the shoulders he moved her a few steps back. "'Scuse me, senorita." Just as the last word left his mouth a thunderous crunch was heard as his right fist connected with the jaw of the man who had made the unwanted contact with her. "I told you to leave her alone, you son of a bitch." The bright blue eyes were flashing with anger, looking like a crystal blue sky filled with lightning. His comment went unanswered as the recipient of the punch lay on the floor unconscious. In a matter of seconds the other three men jumped him and he spent the next couple of minutes untangling himself from them. The sound of sirens drawing near sent a shiver of fear through the young woman and she found herself frozen in place, unable to move. "Come on." He reached for her hand and headed out through the back door of the bar. The last thing the pair heard on their way out of the building was the owner yelling that she was fired and not to expect to be paid for her work that night.

A quick run down the alleyway, a couple of turns, and they were entering a crowd of people on 34th Street. Pulling back on her hand gently, he slowed her down. "Easy. We're just out for a walk now, hear?" The calmness in his voice took her by surprise as did the fact that she had so willingly followed him out of the bar. She now looked into his eyes, doing her best to appear calm. "There ya go." He gave her a crooked grin that she couldn't help but return. "You okay?"

"Yes, thank you." The accent was there, but her English was as good or better than most of the people that Mattlock knew. "New around here, are ya?" He said it casually.

"Yes."

"Uh huh." They continued walking for a minute, both quiet. "My name's Wade - Wade Mattlock." They had stopped and were waiting for a chance to cross the street.

"Carmen."

"Got a last name?" He glanced at her, the beautiful complexion of her skin in the glow of the fading light taking his breath away - not for the first time. Not usually a customer of the dive that they had just escaped from, he had returned there for the last two nights just to catch a glimpse of the beautiful woman that had stolen his heart the minute he lay eyes on her. The question was met with silence and they crossed the street together, she unsure whether or not to tell the handsome stranger who she really was or if she should use the same false name that she had assumed after crossing the border a few nights earlier. Wade saw the hesitation written plainly on her face. "I'm not gonna tell anybody." She once again looked into the shockingly blue eyes that were framed by wavy blonde hair and found herself immediately answering him.

"Mendoza."

"Nice to meet you." He gave her that lopsided grin again. "So…Carmen Mendoza, now what?" Taking a seat on the window ledge of a grocery store, his long legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles as he watched her carefully.

"I…I don't know."

"Got anywhere to go?"

"No." It now occurred to her that she not only had no place to go, she no longer had the few possessions that she had carried across into the US with her; they had been stashed in the storeroom of the bar where she had been working. The last few nights had been spent with another of the undocumented girls who had worked at the bar, but they had been tossed out of the room that they had been sharing with six other illegals that morning and told to move on.

"Got any stuff?" Virgil saw the scared reaction that the question brought to her face. He motioned to her hands. "A purse or anything?"

"Oh…" For a minute she had thought he was talking about drugs - the very reason she had been forced to leave her home. "It's at the bar." Shrugging she sat down next to him unsure of what to do next.

"Well…" Looking around them and then toward the west where the spectacular sunset was taking over the western edge of Lubbock, he thought. "Brody's closes down at 3:00. I reckon by 4-4:30 we oughta be able to do something about that." The shocked look that met his statement drew an easy laugh from him, causing her to smile in spite of the fear that she felt.

"I couldn't."

"I can - and I will. But you'll have to come with me and show me where you left it."

"How can you?"

"Trust me - I can. That place is a hell hole. I've gotten into places that were a lot more secure than that." The matter of fact way that it was said left her little room to doubt him.

"You don't…why would you do that?"

"Because what belongs to you is yours - not theirs. Simple as that."


	2. Chapter 2

**02**

Matt leaned back in the chair behind his desk in the study of the Houston, Texas ranch and rubbed his eyes. It was almost one o'clock in the morning. He had gone to bed with CJ around ten, but found himself tossing and turning, unable to turn off the questions in his mind. After spending a large part of the last year working to take down those responsible for putting out a contract on his life, he had successfully brought down three of the four men. Donovan Lynch was awaiting trial for human trafficking in Texas. Vasil Barkowski had committed suicide in Los Angeles after being trapped by Matt and LAPD Lieutenant Michael Hoyt in the lobby of a charter air service. And just a week earlier he along with Chuck Wylie, George McSwain, FBI agent Alex Bateaux, and LAPD Detective Gabby Giovanni had taken down a child pornographer on the Ten Most Wanted List - Yvon Perrier - in New Orleans. Now there was only one man left and he was going to prove to be the most difficult.

He stood and looked out across the dark front lawn of the estate and stretched as he thought about the Mendoza family line. His grandfather had been Jaime Mendoza, a hardworking dairy farmer who had turned his father's struggling farm into a success. He had met Matt's Comanche grandmother Topsana when she was only eighteen years old and had left her home just outside of Lubbock, Texas to go to El Paso for work. They quickly fell in love and she married him in Mexico. They had three children: Fernando, Arturo, and Matt's mother Carmen. That much had been easy to research. It was about twenty years later that things became fuzzy. His grandfather Jaime had disappeared around the same time as Arturo, and Fernando had taken over control of the family's large dairy business in Chihuahua. It had been sold to a large corporation and the family moved to Nuevo Laredo. His newly formed gang Las Serpientes was able to take advantage of the city's status as the largest inland port in Mexico. The border city was strategically positioned at the convergence of the highways and railroads that in turn gave access to seaports in the US and around the world. He had to give it to the drug kingpin - he was one hell of a businessman.

Fernando and his wife Ines had brought three sons into the world; two had died at a young age from the flu leaving only one surviving son. Apparently Fernando had been a better businessman than father, since Diego had not long ago disposed of him in a very public manner: he had been found near his palatial estate just outside of Nuevo Laredo decapitated and mutilated along with two of his trusted lieutenants. It was a move guaranteed to get the attention of everyone when he took over control of the gang.

It had taken Matt a while to connect the dots to discover why Diego so badly wanted him dead, but thanks to CJ's genealogical research he had found out about Jose Safronio - Diego's illegitimate son. When working with Homeland Security and Border Patrol in Laredo, the PI had been forced to return fire at a young man who had shot multiple times at him, Agent Chris Oakley, and the suspect they were hauling in for questioning. He had been hit in the leg and bled out before reaching the hospital. That young man had been seventeen year old Jose.

Seventeen was awfully young to die, especially for something so stupid as a gang. He thought back to his own boys. CJ and himself had adopted Tomàs a little over two years earlier and Brian Landers, although he was technically an emancipated minor, was just as much of a son to them. How would he feel if someone had gunned down one of them? Or one of the twins for that matter? Mike and Vinny were only two, but still…

Shaking his head, he thought to himself: _And you know damn well that none of your boys would be shooting at somebody like that. Jose shot at you first. It was self defense._

"You should be in bed, _hijo_."

He jumped at the sound of the voice. "What are you doing up?"

Madre Rosa moved into the study, her robe pulled tightly around her. "I'm old; I don't need as much sleep." She walked to him. "You need to rest."

"I will."

"Come have some cocoa with me." Taking him by the hand, she switched off the light on the desk and led him into the kitchen. "Sit." She went over to remove milk from the refrigerator as he sat down at the table, the tiredness now seeming to seep through his bones as he did so. He watched as she went about making the drink, his mind thinking back to when he had been a boy and all the times that they had shared cocoa in this very room. He rubbed his eyes once again, closing them and he thought about his grandmother Topsana. Was she still alive? There was no evidence of her from the time that Fernando had taken over the family. What had she been like?

Next he thought about his mother Carmen. All he knew was that she and his father Wade had met in Lubbock and had been married not long after. Her story was much like Topsana's in that she had met and married a man from another country, but with the exception that she hadn't lived but an hour after giving birth to Matt. He had never known her love. Madre Rosa was the closest thing he had to a mother growing up.

"Here you go." The housekeeper set a mug in front of him and as he caught a whiff of the chocolate, he also smelled something else: Jack Daniel's whiskey. She smiled down at him. "Drink up."

Settling herself in the chair next to him she stirred her drink. "I know that you are worried about this Mendoza character." She looked over to him as he stared down into the mug. "There has to be some way for the government to do something."

"No, ma'am there isn't." He raised the mug to his lips and took a sip, the combination of the chocolate and whiskey a welcome comfort.

"You have asked?"

"I haven't had to: Alex, Mitchell, Chris, and some other folks have tried looking into it. He's in Mexico and the US has no jurisdiction over him. Even though we have statements that he was in cahoots with Barkowski and the others, they won't give any further to make the affidavits that we need to get the Mexican government to issue an extradition warrant for him. Basically…" He leaned back in the chair. "Lynch and Perrier still effectively have a hit out on me. They know that without their help Mendoza will stay a free man."

"Still, there has got to be something-"

"No." He took another drink.

"You can't go down there."

"Madre Rosa, I don't see that I have a choice in the matter. So far he's only sent people after _me_. I'm afraid now that the others are in custody he might feel a little more pressure to get rid of me - or hurt the family."

Both quietly sipped the cocoa for a couple of minutes. "I understand better now why you've been so worried." The housekeeper shook her head. "I just can't believe that there isn't some help out there, though."

"Well…" He finished off the drink. "If there is, nobody has figured it out yet." Standing, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Thanks for the cocoa. Good night."


	3. Chapter 3

**03**

CJ slid into the Gator, put her crutches in the back seat, and propped her cast-encased left leg up on the fender. She could hear a tractor at work and knew that Matt had been headed that way a while earlier. What he was doing was anyone's guess. Following the sound of the engine, she came upon him not too far from the barn. He had dug out an area that was about twenty feet wide and sloped down to a depth of about fifteen feet with a length of at least half a football field. Ranch foreman Marty Hoffman apparently had been running the excavator and was standing at the edge as he watched his boss maneuver the front end loader full of dirt out of the trench and then go around and place it over the back end, mounding it up to increase the height of what she now thought might be a back wall. Marty heard the Gator and turned to her with first a surprised look and then a smile and nod as she edged it near the side of the excavation and cut the engine.

"Riding in style, I see." He stepped over so that they could hear each other better.

"It looks like a shooting range...sort of." She looked to the man who was a few years older than herself.

"Uh huh." He turned back to watch as Houston pulled the tractor off to the side, cut the engine, and slipped down to the ground.

Smiling, Matt walked over to her. "I see you escaped the house. Does Sheila know?" He removed the gloves on his hands and took a seat in the vehicle next to his wife, buzzing her cheek.

"No, I pulled a play out of your book. I'm sure it will be interesting when I get back." Both laughed. She hadn't heard much of that from him in the last few months. He nodded, looking at his creation. "Don't suppose you're out here to make mud pies are you?"

"No. I'm making a backstop."

"Obviously not for baseball."

"Nope. Archery."

"Oooookay. Where did that come from?" She waited but didn't get an answer and then a thought came to her. "Would this have anything to do with the fact that you can't take a gun to Mexico?"

"I married you because you're sexy, too - not just smart."

"Hon, I don't know ab-"

"CJ, I'm going to practice with every possible weapon that I might be able to use down there. Arrows, knives, whatever."

"They don't care much for tourists with knives either from what I've heard."

"I'm sure there are a few available there."

"Just like guns."

He nodded. "Just like guns."

"Matt, Mexican prisons are-"

"I know, Babe." Reaching for her hand he gave it a squeeze. "I just want to be able to use anything that might come handy. Just in case. It's been a while since I've needed to do something like that." Both looked up as Pat pulled up in one of the ranch trucks with some lumber. "Looks like break time is over." Leaning closer, he gently rubbed her cheek with his thumb and kissed her. "You look like you feel a lot better."

"I do." She leaned in and the pair shared another kiss as the Hoffmann brothers exchanged a grin and turned away to give them a little privacy. The couple both heard the sound of another engine and looked back over their shoulders to see Sheila coming across the pasture, not looking happy in the slightest. "Uh oh." They shared a look.

"For once she's after you and not me." He laughed again.

The nanny emerged from the truck with her hands on her hips. "Houston, don't tell me you dragged this girl out here."

"Well, hell. I guess you caught me." Giving CJ a wink he slid from the Gator. "Better get back before you land in more trouble."

"I swear…" The nanny grumbled as CJ started the engine and tooted the horn at her husband before heading back to the house.

When the ladies had gone, the cowboys unloaded the lumber and began constructing the back wall of the gallery.


	4. Chapter 4

**04**

"So he is still in Texas?" Diego Mendoza had just emerged from the swimming pool at his estate outside Nuevo Laredo and began towelling off.

" _Sí, jefe."_ Antonio Vega held the terry cloth robe for the gang leader as he slipped into it. "He hasn't been seen leaving his ranch for a couple of days." The reply was met with silence.

"Maybe my cousin the great war hero has tamed down in his old age. He is saddled with a wife and children now. He must be getting soft." There was a low chuckle.

Vega gave a little laugh and hoped that was what Mendoza wanted; the man was given to mercurial fits of temper even worse than his father had exhibited. He had gladly kept his distance from the former head of Las Serpientes, preferring to follow his orders and stay in the shadows of the operations. Now, he had been chosen as Diego's second in command, a precarious job to say the least. His murder of Diego's father at his behest along with Tito Aureliano who had been in charge of the gang members in the US, and another top lieutenant had sealed the deal. After all, it wasn't like he could turn down the promotion - not and live, that is.

"I have people with sources in the US government. He has been trying to get me extradited. But Lynch and Perrier refuse to give the additional statements that are required. And we don't have to worry about Barkowski. He chose to kill himself rather than be taken in by the police." Mendoza sat down at a table near the pool and helped himself to the fruit and cheese that was there.

"So do you want our people to take him out if the opportunity presents itself?"

There was a pause as Diego chewed a piece of mango thoughtfully. "No. Let's see what he will do next. Just have them report his activities."

Vega waited, sure that there would be further comment and he didn't have to wait long.

"You know, I think my dear cousin needs a wake up call. Something to get him moving out of that mansion of his - and away from all his armed _vaqueros_. He still has a son in California at that fancy school and a cousin somewhere up there, right?"

" _Sí jefe._ " Vega felt a wave of unease go over him.


	5. Chapter 5

**05**

Once the backstop was completed, Matt removed a couple of bows from his bedroom closet and pulled down a bag that he hadn't opened in quite some time. He sat on the bed, putting the olive drab duffle between his feet and opened the clip on the top, moving back the flap to reveal some of the gear that he had kept when he was discharged from the Army back in 2005. A rush of emotions swept over him, the first being surprise when he realized just how long it had been: thirteen years. God, had it really been that long? In a way it seemed it was just a couple of months ago and then he thought how much things had changed, how he had changed in that amount of time. He had gone through a month of being a useless drunk when he had first been discharged. Then he spent another month on one of the biggest oil platforms out in the Gulf of Mexico, drying out and getting his head back on straight. Thank God Bill had thrown him in the river when he came home from his month-long binge. If he hadn't... But he had and Matt had pulled himself together and gotten on with his life.

His next emotion as he began pulling gear out was laughter as his hand landed on a rock. The guys in his last squad had taken turns hiding the rock in each other's gear and as it turned out, even as the captain he hadn't been immune. He wondered which man had stuck it in there before he shipped back home? How many of them had survived to come back home? He had never checked.

This thought led him to another emotion: sadness. So many good men had been lost over there - and women. He thought back to Angelina Reyes, a young woman from New York who had been assigned to the motor pool at Kandahar. The tough as nails sergeant hadn't taken any crap off any of the guys and had a reputation of cool comebacks for some of their comments. Matt had been present when incoming mortar fire had hit the jeep that she was driving at the air base. There hadn't been much left to send back home to her family. And so many others hadn't made it back safe. Some had been maimed by rockets, grenades, bullets, and bombs and their lives would never be same.

Digging down through the layers his hand came to rest on exactly what he had been looking for: a set of knives that had served him well on more occasions than he cared to remember. They were perfect for slicing a throat from behind or for throwing. He pulled each from its sheath and ran his finger over the edge: still sharp.

Packing the gear back into the bag, he tucked the knives into his belt and gathered up the bows along with an aluminum case containing a dozen arrows. He went back downstairs, stopping briefly to look into the rooms of the children. They were napping peacefully and as he watched he felt a pang of fear: what if his trip to Mexico was unsuccessful? He might end up dead or in a Mexican prison which meant that most likely he would be dead before long anyway. And then who would make sure that they were protected?

Pushing the thought from his mind, he set off through the house and down to the Gator that was parked by the barn. He loaded the bows and case in the back, then went into the tool crib and pulled out a couple of hatchets.

Once down at the gallery, he began by marking off distances from the back wall. He heard the sound of an engine and in a moment he was joined by Marty, Pat, and Scott.

The foreman removed his straw cowboy hat and wiped the band. "Mind if we watch?"

"I don't reckon." He moved back up to where he had left the Gator parked and removed some paper targets. After tacking them on the wall he opened the case of arrows and picked up the old recurve bow. It had been ages since he had shot one. He looked up to the men. "Y'all aren't putting money on this are you?"

"Naw." Pat had squatted down near the edge. "Considering the reason why you're doing this it wouldn't be sporting."

"That's mighty civilized of you."

"Of course if it would make you feel better…" The cowboy gave a chuckle as Matt just shook his head and grinned.

He nocked the arrow, took a settling breath and then drew back the bowstring and let the arrow fly. It landed two rings away from the bullseye.

"How long has it been since you shot?" Marty took a seat on the edge of the excavation.

"Hmmm…" Matt reached for another arrow. "Long enough I don't remember." He repeated the process and after a couple more shots began hitting the bullseye consistently. After several trips to retrieve the arrows in between which he moved further away from the target, he pulled out the compound bow and moved still further away from the target. With the sites on this bow he had no trouble at all hitting the bullseye. Satisfied, he retrieved the arrows once again and then pulled the knives out. Starting within twelve feet of the target he began throwing them. The first and second throws landed on the outer rings. After that he began hitting the bullseye. He kept increasing the distance from the target.

"Boss Man, I don't think you've got much to worry about there." Pat was no longer joking; he knew that his boss had been in Special Forces but it wasn't really something that he thought about too much. Houston was usually a peaceful, easy-going person and it was rare to see him riled up about anything.

Next, Matt began walking away from the target and then suddenly spinning around and releasing the knives. He also practiced going to one knee and throwing them.

Once he was feeling comfortable using the knives again, he pulled out the hatchets and repeated the process with them. When he was consistently hitting the centers, Scott got his attention. "How about a drink?"

"I'd appreciate it." Matt's shirt was soaking wet with sweat. He caught the bottle of water that Scott threw to him and downed it quickly causing the man to laugh.

"That's a hard habit to break." Scott Tisdale had served in the 101st just as his boss. "But since you're lookin' to go to Mexico maybe you better get back to doing it."

"Exactly what I was thinking." He had emptied the bottle and now threw it up in the air, quickly drawing the knives from either side of his belt, both piercing the bottle before it hit the ground.

Marty let out a low whistle. "Remind me not to piss you off." The reply was a chuckle and they watched as he started over again with his practice with the bows, this time shooting left handed. It took a little longer for him to reach the same level of performance but he did manage it.

Finally he decided to call it quits for the day and as he was loading the weapons into the back of the Gator his phone rang. Madre Rosa was calling him to dinner.


	6. Chapter 6

**06**

The next morning, Matt went back to the gallery and began working again, this time trying to increase his speed and still remain accurate. Occasionally he could hear the lowing of cows, the sound of a truck or tractor going about the business of the ranch, and every once in a while the sound of his children drifted on the air to him, their innocent playtime squeals reinforcing his desire to do well with his practice. Never in his life had he had so much to live for and so much to lose.

Around noon Madre Rosa called him and he drove back to the house, finding that she had spread out lunch on the big table on the patio under the shade of several umbrellas. But there was more waiting for him there than food: his Uncle Roy and Vince Novelli were helping to settle the boys down to the table and Rosa Novelli - now Mrs. Roy Houston - was seated on the opposite side of the table next to Catey Rose. "What in the world are y'all doing here?" He leaned over to give Mama a peck on the cheek.

"About to eat lunch. And you call yourself a detective. Tsk tsk." Roy smirked at his nephew.

"Funny." He settled in next to CJ and reached for a hot dog.

"We need to talk, Ace. After lunch." Vince wore a serious look on his face.

"Alright."

It was a lively meal with the kids wound up over the surprise visit from Roy and Mama who they referred to as Grandpa and Grandma, neither objecting to the titles. For all intents and purposes they were just that. Afterwards the begging and pleading to not take naps was trotted out as always and as always shot down. They finally were ushered into the coolness of the house by Sheila and as Madre Rosa worked to clear the lunch, the adults began to talk seriously.

"So what's up, Vince?" Matt hadn't spoken to his friend in a while; he didn't want to drag Vince or his family into his troubles.

"I hear you're talking about going after Mendoza." The former cop settled back in his chair with a cup of coffee.

"Where'd you hear that?" The PI tried to play it off. Vince was having no part of it.

"You're not going."

"I believe I'm the one who decides that. But thanks for your input." He stared steadily at his friend.

"You know how it is down there. Mendoza wouldn't be able to run drugs and people across the border if he wasn't greasing the palms of plenty of influential government types. He can have you picked up and hauled off to a prison - or worse - the minute you cross the border."

Matt's tone was very quiet but angry all the same. "So what am I supposed to do, Vince? Stay locked up here forever? And what about the kids and CJ? Are they supposed to be confined for the rest of their lives?"

"You don't need to go."

"Well, I sure as hell can't get any help from the government. I tried the proper channels. They can't do squat."

"There are other ways." Vince was just as quiet as his friend.

"Such as?"

Uncle Roy spoke up at this point. "Matt, we both know that there are people for hire out there who wouldn't think twice about going down and taking the man out."

"Sure, Uncle Roy. And then what? Have them blackmail me for the rest of my life? Don't think so."

"I know some folks from the company…"

"Little old for that sort of thing aren't they?" He got an angry look from the man.

"Younger folks. I still have a few connections."

"I seriously doubt that the CIA is going to help me out, Uncle Roy. But thanks just the same."

Vince leaned forward. "You need to listen to reason."

"Alright, suppose I did hire somebody. And they went down. And something went wrong. And they turned on me. Then what?" He waited for a second. "I'll tell you exactly what: more than likely our great government that can't do a damned thing for me over the same exact situation on American soil would probably bend over backwards to give me to the Mexican government. Either way…" He left the rest unsaid. There was silence and he looked across at Mama who was visibly upset. His tone softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"There has got to be some way…" She looked back at him, the man that she claimed a son as much as her own.

"I haven't found it...yet." He gave her a slight smile. "But I'm still thinking."

Roy and Vince went back with him to the gallery and watched as he began practicing again. His speed was definitely improving from the day before and it was obvious that he was running through various scenarios in his mind, much like he had done while designing the combat simulator for the government. He had been in on enough raids and missions while in the Middle East that he had a variety of ideas of how things might go down.

A couple of hours later he removed his dripping t-shirt and threw it on the Gator before getting a drink. He tossed a bottle to each of the men as they joined him. "I gotta say you're looking pretty efficient there, Houston." Vince cracked the bottle open and took a long drink. He was sweating profusely and had been standing where the breeze could hit him. How Matt was taking the heat down in the hole was a mystery to him.

"When are you planning to go, boy?" Roy's voice was soft. He watched as Matt emptied a second bottle, chugging it straight down.

"Not sure. I've been doing more than just practicing down here, Uncle Roy. I'm thinking." Looking over to Roy he tossed the bottle into the back of the vehicle. "Believe me - I don't want to go down there. The odds are against me. So right now I'm trying to come up with something to even up the odds a little bit."

Matt spent most of the afternoon practicing and then was driven back to the house by thunderstorms being thrust up from the heat and humidity of the Gulf. He hit the shower and then went to the kitchen for coffee before heading into the study.

By studying news accounts of the beheading of Fernando Mendoza he had learned the location of the estate that Diego called home and had set the old Russian satellite to monitor it. As he sat down behind the desk he pulled up the feed, zooming in to familiarize himself with the layout. Located a little less than seven miles from the US border, it sat alone in the desert. The house itself was comparable in size to the one where Matt was sitting. There was a large pool just behind it on a patio, a couple of outbuildings, and a small lake within the fenced area. He looked up as Roy and Vince came to the door and waved them over. "Here's his place." After giving them a minute to look at the details he zoomed out a bit.

Vince's jaw dropped. "Crap. That's not far at all from the Rio Grande."

"Nope. Less than seven miles as a matter of fact." He leaned back. "And it's isolated."

Vince's history as a pilot now showed itself. "There aren't any power lines."

"Nuh uh. Looks like he runs off of generators. I don't see any solar panels around there." He continued to look at it as they both took seats. "See, it's not the distance so much as it is manpower on his part. Right now I'm recording what goes on there - how many folks are coming in and out of the house, how many vehicles…"

"Gathering intel." Roy nodded.

''The only thing…" Matt stopped. He didn't really like to talk about the dreams that he had.

"What?" The older man watched him intently.

"The dream." He stood and looked out the front window at the heavy rainfall that was slashing against the windows. "I'm riding Jasper tracking somebody. And there are hills." Turning back he motioned to the computer. "It isn't that terrain."

"Matt, maybe your dream doesn't have anything to do with this deal. Or maybe it's just that - a dream." Vince had never put much stock into premonitions or visions or whatever people wanted to call it, but Houston had proven himself quite a few times now.

"Maybe…" Matt sat back down behind the desk.

"Boy, my advice is to concentrate on the known. Use your dream as additional information - if it has any to provide." The answer was a nod.

"I'm sorry about the old crack earlier." He looked to his uncle now.

"Well, I hear that middle aged men tend to get cranky now and again." Roy's reply had Vince first chuckling and then guffawing as his friend's expression changed from apology to a narrowed squint across the desk.

"Middle aged?"

"You're about to hit forty, pal."

"Mmph." He hadn't even thought about it what with all of the mess that had been going on. He was just a few weeks shy of his birthday.

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked before you take off after your cousin." Vince began laughing again.

"And maybe you should stick it up your-"

"Language, hon." CJ came into the room on her crutches and Vince scooted over on the loveseat so that she could sit, too. She smiled, propped her leg across his and looked to Matt. "Now, what have you boys come up with?"


	7. Chapter 7

**07**

Down in Tamaulipas, Antonio Vega was breathing a sigh of relief, if only for a few hours. Diego was busy with another teenage girl, this one looking even younger than the last that he had had brought to him. He would never understand why a man would want a girl when he could have a woman.

He stopped and looked into the kitchen and saw that _la sabia_ \- the wise one - was cooking again. _"Buenas tardes."_

She nodded to him. "Come sit down and eat with me. The boy never joins me anymore."

" _Gracias."_ He took a seat at the table and watched as the eighty-four year old shuffled about, pulling out plates and then spooning slices of chicken and peppers onto the plate along with some beans. She pulled fresh tortillas from the warmer and put a glass of lemonade in front of him. He waited for her to fill her own plate and sit down before he picked up his fork.

"No, no, no." Embarrassed, he put the fork back down, crossed himself, and bowed his head as she blessed the food. Once done, she began eating. "Where is Diego?"

"He is busy, _señora_." He didn't look up at her.

"Hmph." She watched him, knowing exactly what he was busy with - or rather whom. "My grandson needs to show better judgment."

Antonio shot a glance at her and then looked back down at the plate. What could he say to the old lady? Your grandson is a pervert? Not likely. He thought it best to remain quiet.

"Did you find out what I asked of you?" She watched him from the corner of her eye while she carefully loaded pepper and chicken onto her fork.

"No, _señora_. No one knows who would do such a thing."

"I think we both know the answer to it, do we not?" Although she spoke quietly her statement had as much effect on him as someone screaming in his ear. His heart beat faster.

"No." He couldn't look up at her, couldn't look her in the eye.

"You are troubled, Antonio. This business that first my son and now my grandson are conducting…" She shook her head. "It is a dirty business full of misery. No good can come of such a thing."

Antonio put down his fork and knife, his stomach roiling. Since his promotion he had been having some of his meals with _la sabia_ and his conscience had been bothering him. He awoke at night - every night - dreaming that he was sinking into the fires of hell and she was standing over him looking down into the pit, telling him to confess his sins and ask forgiveness. He asked himself once again why he came around the old lady - it was torture for him since she reminded him so much of his great grandmother. Even though she knew that her son Fernando had killed his own father she still loved him and prayed for him. And now that Fernando was dead, she continued to ask him to find out who had done the deed. There was no way he could tell her it was him but he had the feeling that this old woman, small though she was, was more powerful than all of Las Serpientes put together. And he thought she already knew the answer to her question. It took all of his will to continue eating. When finished, he gathered the plates and started to put them in the dishwasher and she stopped him. "There is no need to run the machine for just two people." Standing at the sink, she carefully washed and then dried the dishes and put them away.

" _Señora_ , I must get back to work now. Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome, Antonio." Watching as the young man hurriedly left the kitchen she gave a great sigh. Her dreams had been showing her that both terrible and great things were coming. Slowly she went up the stairs to her room, closing the door and turning on the television. Would her other grandson be on the news that night? She had seen him a week earlier when there had been a commotion in New Orleans. He had apparently come very near to being shot once again. Searching the channels, she didn't see anything on the news about him. She popped in the DVD that Angelita, one of the maids, had secretly recorded for her last week. Leaving the sound off, she watched as he came out of the club in the French Quarter and gunfire erupted. She ran it back and hit the pause button. He was such a handsome man but looked so troubled. After removing the disc and hiding it in the bottom drawer of the chest, she knelt down beside her bed removing the rosary from her pocket and began reciting the prayers, asking God to watch over both of her grandsons and lead them in the right direction.

Back in Texas Houston was making a call to his adopted son Tomás that he didn't want to make. "Hey, bud. How are classes?"

"Great. I've got four more weeks and I'm done!" The now seventeen year old had done well in school, despite the fact that he had been homeless on the streets of Los Angeles for four years before the PI had found him while working on a case. He was enrolled at an exclusive private school just outside of San Francisco and operated more on the level of a college student since he was used to being on his own.

"I'm awful proud of you, Tomás." He hated to say what needed to be said next. "Look, I know you've got your heart set on that internship this summer…"

"I can't wait! Greg and the other guys are sooo jealous." He gave a laugh.

"Well, I think that's going to have to be put on hold for a little bit." There was silence on the other end of the line.

"But you said that Derwin was cool with it."

"He is." Matt leaned in the doorway of the barn and watched as the rain continued to fall. "I'm still trying to deal with this hit that's out on me. And I'm afraid-"

"Pop, you can't do this! I've worked hard all year and-"

"I know that, bud. And I'm sorry. It's just that things are really dangerous right now."

"When aren't they?" The anger in the boy's voice took Matt by surprise. He was usually quiet and easy going, hardly ever upset.

"I'm sorry. But it just isn't safe right now. Look, I'm doing everything I can to try to get this mess cleared up. And if I can do it before the end of your school, then-"

"And if you can't?" He couldn't believe his Pop would do this to him.

"I'm doing the best I can, bud."

"I can't believe this."

"I'm sorry. Look, we're working on it. And Uncle Roy and Vince are helping, and a lot of oth-"

"Whatever." He wanted to scream. "I've gotta go. 'Bye."

With that he cut off the call and Matt was left staring at his phone while the rain continued to pour. He had let the boy down.


	8. Chapter 8

**08**

"Hey, Cuz. Thanks for getting back to me." Matt was still down in the barn. Just as at the ranch in California, the cowboys in Texas were very good at their jobs and he was hard-pressed to find something to do to occupy his hands while his mind worked on his problems. The rain was interfering with his weapons practice and he couldn't stand to be cooped up in the study staring at the computer screen constantly.

"What's going on, Matt?" Will Houston had just gotten back to his cabin at Big Bear Lake in California.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And keeping your guard up."

"Everything is fine here. Been busy the last three days. Lots of fishing trips. Got two scheduled for tomorrow, too."

"Sounds like you're doing good." He picked up the saddle and moved it over onto the table so he could better reach it for cleaning.

"How are things there?"

"They're going. Your dad and Rosa are here."  
"Oh? I haven't talked to him in a couple of weeks or so."

"Flew in yesterday." He didn't want to unduly worry his cousin but he also didn't want him to be taken by surprise. "He's trying to help me figure out how to approach my Mexico problem."

"So the DOJ can't do anything?" Will rummaged in the refrigerator and pulled out the fixings for hamburgers.

"Not a damn thing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Not sure yet. I just want to be sure that you're taking precautions and-"

"Cuz, things are great here. As a matter of fact, Holly and I have started dating again." The joy in his voice was unmistakable. Will Houston had been through hell in his life: after being held prisoner in Afghanistan and being set free by Matt, he had gone through problems when he got home. He suffered from PTSD and had nearly committed suicide.

"Bud, that's the best news I've heard in ages. Congratulations!"

"Man, I feel like a kid again. I'm telling you. Things haven't been this good in a long time. That doc you hooked me up with really understands, you know? He was there, too. It makes a big difference."

"I can't tell you how happy I am for you." It was no lie: Matt and Roy had both spent a lot of sleepless nights worrying about him. Now it seemed that things were back on track for him. He could hear something sizzling in a skillet. "So what's for supper?"

"Burgers. I've been craving a thick, juicy burger all day while I was out on the boat. Oh, by the way - you need to get your butt up here as soon as you can. The fishing has been absolutely dynamite, man." The two continued talking on for a while about fishing and before the call ended, Matt reminded him once again to be careful. "You know I will, Cuz. Tell dad and Rosa I love them. And CJ and the kids."  
"I'll sure do it, bud."

"And I even love you."

"Love you, too, Cuz. Goodnight." He listened as the call was disconnected and the only sounds he heard were that of the rain hitting the tin roof of the barn and the thunder as it rolled grumpily outside.

Later that night as they lay in bed, Matt and CJ snuggled together, both wanting to speak but neither knowing what to say that hadn't already been said a thousand times already. Just as both were starting to drift off she suddenly jerked awake.

"You okay?" Matt raised up on his elbow worriedly.

"Yeah. I just thought of something." She rolled over on her left side and looked at him, just making out the shape of his face in the darkness. "Wade was part owner of a bar."

"Yeah."

"It was in Nuevo Laredo." She waited.

"Yeah…" His brain was grasping at what she had said, the wheels beginning to turn. "When his partner sent that box that Wade set aside for me he put a note in there to call him if I ever needed anything."

"Uh huh." She rubbed her hand along his ribs. "I think you need his help."

"I think you're right." Looking at his watch he shook his head. "Prime time in a bar right now, though. I'll call him tomorrow. You're a genius, Babe." He leaned over and kissed her, running his thumb lightly over her cheek, feeling the face that he knew by heart. They settled back down, still wrapped up tightly together and fell asleep as the rain outside continued to come down.

At 4:00AM Matt sat bolt upright in bed. Suddenly everything in his sight went strangely bright and then it was nearly black and he thought at first it was the lightning. He looked over at the window and it suddenly disappeared. Just as quickly as things had gone black the brightness was back and he was looking down at a forest, thick with pine, fir, and oak. He could see a body of water, a highway, and then a dirt road leaving the edge of the lake and going into the forest. And there was a cabin. Fear gripped him as he recognized the house. Then he saw a car pulling into the driveway. Four men got out and entered the home. In a minute they were dragging someone out with a hood over his head.

Matt's vision suddenly came back and he was standing next to the bed screaming his cousin's name over and over again. "Will!" He yelled as the rain hammered down on the roof and lightning flashed across the dark sky.

While Sheila tried to get the kids back to bed, the rest of the adults in the house and Brian were gathered in the study as Matt tried once again to get a call through to Will's house in California. Apparently the storm had taken out the land lines and he couldn't get a call through on his cell phone either. He started back to the bedroom and was stopped by a white-faced Roy. "Where are you going?"

"I've got to get to him."

"Hon, you can't leave in this storm. There's no way flights are getting out of here tonight." CJ was nearly as pale as the elder Houston and still caught herself shaking as she thought back to Matt's sudden screams just ten minutes earlier.

"I'm going to the airport. As soon as I can get clearance I'm going." He hurried back to the bedroom and began donning clothes and then throwing some into his travel bag.

CJ caught up to him a minute later. "Baby, you need to wait until the storm lets up."

"I can't. They've got him." His voice cracked and she saw that he was doing his best not to cry.

"Hon, it could just be a bad dream. You don't know for sure-"

"I know, CJ. I can feel it." He pointed to his chest, his hand trembling. Trying to calm down he went back to putting clothes in the bag. "Keep trying to get through to him, though. Just in case."

"We will." She watched as he zipped the bag closed and then crossed the room to the closet and took down his gun belt and pistol, checking the magazine out of habit even though he knew it was loaded. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." He turned back to her. "Babe…" He swallowed hard. "If I don't-"

"You will." She moved closer to him and he crushed her in his arms.

"If I don't…" Voice shaking, he turned her face up to his. "I want the kids to know all about Bill and Wade and Carmen. I want them to know everything. I want them to know how much I love them." They kissed, both with tears coming down. Suddenly he pulled away and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "I love you more than anything, Babe."

"I love you." She wanted to tell him no, not to go. That Vince and Roy had been right - they could hire somebody to do it. But she knew that it wouldn't do any good, especially if his vision was right and Mendoza had taken Will. Matt had always blamed himself for his cousin's capture during the war and the torment that he had gone through as a prisoner. No one could stop him when he went to rescue him then and no one was going to stop him now. He went out the door and turned left at the end of the hall headed toward the kitchen. "Aren't you going to tell the kids goodbye?" These words brought the others out of the study.

"I can't." He looked at her, trying to hold back more tears that wanted to come.

CJ was eased aside by a gentle hand and Vince went around her to Matt's side, his bag in his other hand.

"No." Matt's voice shook.

"Hell, yeah. I'm not letting you go by yourself." Usually laid back and low key, Vince's eyes were flashing right along with the lightning outside, his jaw firm. "Two pilots are better than one. The way these storms are you're going to need some help." He turned and kissed his mother's cheek and went back to an astonished Matt. "Let's get going."

"No, Vince. You can't. You're…"

"I'm able to do a lot of things even if I am diabetic, if that's the path you're taking. Now we're losing time. And I'm damn near out of patience." With that he went out the door closely followed by Matt.


	9. Chapter 9

**09**

Houston had taken the department issued Suburban and with the light bar flashing, he made his way through the mess. It was a tough drive to the airport. The roads were flooding, traffic signals were out, cars had been abandoned in the middle of streets, and the fastest he could drive was thirty miles per hour. As soon as he had entered the vehicle he had tried to raise the dispatcher on the radio. Half an hour later the device finally crackled to life. He asked to be patched through to Martinez and in another ten minutes he could finally hear her coming through. "Francine, I think Mendoza grabbed my cousin up at Big Bear. Is there any way you can try to get through to the sheriff's department up there? The phones are out at the ranch and we can't get a cell signal."

"I can try. What's his name again?" She had managed to get to the department just five minutes earlier, knowing that it was going to be a rough day and they would need all hands available. She had toyed with the idea of calling Houston in, but knowing what he was thinking about doing and how he was trying to plan for it, she decided to leave well enough alone.

"Will Houston. He lives at 38008 Pine Oak in Fawnskin. It's up at Big Bear Lake." He could feel his hands shaking once again. "See if you can get through to Sergeant Roberto Cuevas with the San Bernardino County Sheriff."

"I'll do it. Where will you be?"

"I'm trying to fly out of here." There was silence on the other end of the radio. "You still there?"

"Yeah...good luck with that. I'll holler at you. And Houston?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful. Know that we're here for you, okay?"

"Thanks." He put down the mic and concentrated on his driving, finally arriving at the airport as the rain began to slack off a little bit. "Try calling again, bud." Pulling up to the gate he was immediately waved in as soon as the guard saw the Suburban.

"No answer at Will's, but at least I got through." He tried calling the ranch phone with no luck and then got CJ's cell. "Hey, we made it to the airport."

"Okay. Keep us updated."

"You got it." He disconnected the call and slid out of the vehicle into the steady rain, following Matt into the refueling office. After several minutes of argument during which the flight ban was lifted, Matt had arranged for the plane to be topped off. They went to the hangar and after tossing their gear inside, both men began on the pre-flight inspection. The fuel truck appeared a few minutes later, topped the tanks, and the jet was put in the line for takeoff, the PI swearing under his breath the entire fifteen minutes that they had to wait. Vince's phone rang.

"Hey, tell Matt that the landline is working again. No answer at Will's place." CJ's voice came through the phone clear as a bell.

"It's on speaker; he heard you."

"Babe, I want you to keep a sharp eye on Mendoza's place. Try to get any tag numbers of the cars going in and out of there. And I want you to monitor the air traffic between LA and Nuevo Laredo. Hack into it if you have to."

"I'll do it, hon. Love you."

"Love you." The call was ended as he finally got to the front of the line for takeoff.

Once airborne, he took a deep breath. This was exactly what he had been dreading since leaving the ranch: the time spent flying to California. He had filed the flight plan and put Big Bear Airport as the destination. What he was really worried about was what would happen once they landed? If Cuevas couldn't be reached he would have to get to the sheriff's department and try to plead his case. He would much prefer to work with the sergeant, thinking back to when Will had been a witness to an arson fire that was set to cover up a murder. It dawned on him then that the murder had been at the command of another of the most notorious drug lords in Mexico.

Vince watched his best friend, wondering what was running through his head. Houston had been through a lot in the last couple of years and life didn't seem to be getting any easier. At the rate he was going...But he couldn't think like that. The man had always been a rock in times of trouble. They were going to make it through this mess.

Both men jumped as Matt's cell rang. "Yeah?"

"Houston, I got through to SBSD and talked to your friend Cuevas. He's on the way to Will's place right now."

"I appreciate it."

"Where are you?"

"Over San Angelo."

"Already?!"

"Five hundred eighty miles an hour will do that." He and Vince exchanged a look.

"Oh, my God." Back in Houston, the sheriff shuddered. "Please be careful and let me know what's going on, okay? I know you've gotten the runaround from DOJ…" She settled into her chair. "And I normally wouldn't suggest anything like it, but if you have to go under the radar I will do anything humanly possible to help you. You know that, right?"

Matt nodded, slightly choked up. He and Martinez hadn't know each other an extremely long time but they got along very well. "I appreciate it."

"Call me." She hung up and stared at the phone, wondering if Chuck knew what was going on. Her next call was to him.

Roberto Cuevas had left the parking lot of the San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department with gravel flying and light bar on as soon as he got off the phone with the Sheriff in Harris County. To say he was astonished to be getting a call from the woman was an understatement, but as soon as he heard the reason why, he understood.

He took the Stanfield Cutoff across the lake, then headed west on North Shore toward Will Houston's cabin on Pine Oak Lane. He had run into the fishing guide about a month earlier and had been surprised at how well he was doing. Maybe Houston's hunch about his cousin was wrong. Martinez had been reluctant to say how the man had the information and he was puzzled, but that could be explained later. If the man needed help he was going to do his damnedest to see that he got it.

It was still dark out as he pulled to a stop outside the cabin. Nothing looked disturbed and he kept the light bar on just in case Will heard the vehicle: it was a good way to keep from being shot at by a homeowner who was awakened from a sound sleep. Keeping his hand on the butt of his pistol he mounted the steps to the front porch and approached the door cautiously, noting a light on further back in the house. When he got to the door, cold shivers ran down his spine: it had been breached. Pistol in hand, he eased the door open with the toe of his boot and slowly entered the house, the light from what he could now tell was the kitchen guiding his way. There was absolutely no sound. _Crap._ He took a deep breath and removed his flashlight from his belt, clicked it on, and called out. "Sheriff's Department. Will, you in here? It's Cuevas." There was no reply. He continued through the small cabin finding absolutely nothing until he went into the master bedroom. There was a small patch of blood on the pillow and some blood spatter on the headboard and wall but not a significant amount. Once he was sure the house was empty he placed a call first to the crime scene unit and then to Houston's cell.

Matt answered on the first ring. "Cuevas?"

"Yeah. I'm here at your cousin's house. No sign of him but there's a little blood in the bedroom and the front door was kicked in."

"Damn." The upset came through loud and clear in the man's voice.

"No other signs of trouble. It's not a lot of blood." He tried to minimize it. "Do we have any idea who would break in here?"

"It's a long story, but most likely some guys working for Diego Mendoza."

There was more than a little surprise in the detective's voice. "The drug guy in Mexico?"

"Yeah. Look, we should be there in about an hour. I'm landing at the airport there."

"I'll have somebody meet you. And Houston? I'm sorry."

"Thanks." Matt hung up, barely able to get the word out of his mouth for the lump in his throat.

"Hey, the man said it was just a little blood." Vince knew how ridiculous it sounded but he was trying for any sign of hope at all. The answer was a nod.

Cuevas was waiting when the Gulfstream landed and taxied to a stop. In less than a minute, Houston and another man came down the steps. He spoke with an airport employee and arranged for the refueling of the jet before joining the detective. The pair shook hands. "Roberto, this is Vince."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Anything else?" Matt walked quickly to the SUV and slid into the front passenger seat as Vince took the back.

"No. We really don't have anywhere to go on it. With that cabin being back in the woods nobody saw anything. We canvassed the neighbors and nobody heard a thing." Cuevas hit the lights and siren and blasted west on North Shore once again. In a matter of minutes they were pulling up to the cabin where three other vehicles were parked.

Going under the crime scene tape, they mounted the stairs and Matt briefly looked at the broken door before following the man back to Will's bedroom. His hands began shaking as he saw the blood. "Damn it." He felt Vince's reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"If we had a vehicle description…" Cuevas shrugged his shoulders. "We don't have anywhere to go, Houston."

"I know." Matt turned and went into the living room of the home, looking at a photo on the wall just outside the kitchen. In it, he and Will were on either side of Roy and all three men were smiling. They had spent the entire day out on the lake fishing.

"What do you want to do?" Vince followed his friends eyes to the photo. He was upset as well; he and Will had gotten to be very good friends while installing security systems for Matt's company a few years back. And he was worried about Roy having another heart attack. What he couldn't understand was why Will refused to have a security system put in his own house. He, Matt, and Roy had all tried to talk him into it, but he refused.

Matt went out on the front porch, drawing in a deep breath. "We need to split up."

"No way."

"Yes. I need you to go make sure that Tomás is okay."

"And where the hell are you going?"

"Mexico."


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

Matt saw Vince off and with the help of Roberto Cuevas managed to catch a flight to Palm Springs with a friend of his. The older man was quite the talker, but after several tries to engage the young stranger in conversation, he finally gave up. If not for the fact that he had known Cuevas for over ten years, he would have been reluctant to take the man. Once they landed at Palm Springs however, he was bowled over by the younger man's generosity: he not only paid to refuel the plane but gave him $1,200 for his trouble. Once clear of the pilot, Matt chartered a jet and instructed the pilot to fly to Laredo. While onboard, he got caught up with CJ and Francine by way of a conference call.

"Hon, I know you want to get down there to get Will, but what is your plan?" She was sitting at the desk in the study with three monitors going in front of her: one with the satellite trained on Mendoza's estate and the second with an ever-changing list of flights going from Los Angeles, San Diego, and Las Vegas to Nuevo Laredo. She had even hacked into the passenger manifests for the airlines and was running through the lists of names on the third monitor.

"I'm on the way to Laredo. After I hit Mexico my first stop will be to Wade's bar. Then I'm going to settle things with Diego."

"Do you know for sure that's where they've taken him?" Francine had put her second in command in charge of what remained of the weather emergency that the storms had left behind and was now concentrating on trying to help Houston.

"That's my best guess." He paused. "Either way I'm done with the son of a bitch." The voice was a low growl.

"Alright. Chuck and I are going to Laredo. We'll be there if you need us."

"Y'all don't need to get mixed-" He didn't get to finish as Chuck interrupted.

"Damn it, Houston! I should be with your sorry ass right now." He was infuriated.

"Bud, I don't want you getting involved in this. It's my fault and I'm the one that needs to deal with it."

"None of this is your fault." Martinez exchanged an exasperated look with Chuck.

"Every bit of it is - I should have taken him out before he ever had a chance to get Will." He turned his attention to CJ. "Babe, I need you to call Chris Oakley and let him know what I'm doing."

"Are you sure he'll let you?"

"I'm sure I may need his help getting back into the states." Pausing again, he asked about the kids.

"They're okay, just worried about you. Catey was pretty upset that she didn't get a goodbye kiss." There was no reply on the other end of the line.

When he finally spoke his voice was very subdued. "Give her one for me - and the boys." His phone beeped. "That's Vince. Gotta go. Love you."

"Love you more." She looked at the phone as the call was disconnected. "Chuck?"

"We're still here." His voice was tight with worry and anger.

"Thank you for going down there."

"You're welcome, hon. Just try to take it easy and I'll call you as soon as we know something."

"Thanks." She hung up and swallowed hard, hoping that she would hear from Matt again before he crossed into Mexico.

As the jet soared closer to Laredo, Matt answered the call from Vince. "Yeah?"

"He's okay." Vince had pushed the plane as hard as he could just like Houston had done on the way to Big Bear.

"You're sure?" He was relieved to say the least.

"Yeah. I've got eyes on him. He's talking to a blonde." Vince was striding across the quad toward the young man who looked up, the color draining from his face as he spied him.

"Phew." Matt heaved a shaky sigh of relief.

"Want to talk to him?"

"I don't know if he wants to talk to me."

"Hang on." The former cop stopped in front of the bench where the boy was sitting and handed him the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey…" Matt wasn't sure what to say.

"Pop? Why is Vince here?"

"They got Will." He was trying hard to keep his voice even but it was shaking nonetheless.

"Will? No…" He looked to Vince who nodded his head. "But…"

"Do you understand now?"

"I'm sorry. I was going to call you later." Tomás buried his face in his hands.

"I'm on my way to try to get him back right now." He paused for a minute. "If I don't make it back I want you to help CJ with the kids."

"You can't go!"

"I've got to - or we'll never get any peace. It's the only way."

"I don't want you to-"

"I don't want to do it either, bud. There's no other way. They've got Will."

"But-" The teen could hear another voice in the background.

"I've got to go. We're about to land. Just remember that I love you."

"I love you, too. Please-" The call was disconnected.


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

" _Jefe,_ Houston has gone to San Francisco." Antonio caught up with his boss as he came down the stairs. "Omar found the flight plan."

"He's a little bit off. His cousin should be getting here pretty soon." There was a short laugh. "I can't decide if I should keep him alive until Houston gets here or go ahead and kill him as soon as he arrives."

Topsana had been about to exit the library of the home when she heard her grandson's comment, and slowly moved back where she couldn't be seen. Her heart beat faster. So what she had dreamed the night before was true: her two grandsons were about to meet. Quietly she waited until Diego was out of sight before going back up to her room. Angelita - the maid - was rolling a vacuum down the hallway. The old woman motioned her into her bedroom and after a furtive glance down the hall, silently closed the door.

"Angelita, I need a favor from you."

" _Sí, señora."_ Although she was terrified of her employer, the young woman adored his grandmother.

"Diego is bringing a man here from the states. I need you to let me know when he gets here and where my grandson is keeping him in the house."

"But…" She was worried.

"Some terrible things are about to happen here, _mi niña._ We must do what is right." She watched as the girl finally nodded. "Go along now. Act as if nothing is amiss." Opening the door, Topsana watched her go down the hallway. Turning, she went to her window that overlooked the home's driveway and had a seat.

The first thing Matt did when he left the airport was to rent a car and go to a self storage unit. He rented the smallest available and once inside, opened his bag. The passport was removed and tucked into his shirt, while his knife and badge were placed inside with his pistol and gun belt. His next step after locking up the unit was to go to an overnight courier service and ship one of the keys and the code to the storage unit to CJ.

The outlet mall on Water Street was as good a place as any to leave the car. He had decided he would attract far less attention going into Mexico on foot. Walking east, he went to the pedestrian bridge, bought a Gateway pass and began his trek. Checking his watch he noticed that it was nearly five. He kept his ball cap pulled down close and his sunglasses on, hoping that any of Diego's spotters wouldn't recognize him. It was one of the riskiest parts of the journey.

As he started across the river, he took a deep breath and sent up a prayer as he reached into his pocket and felt the rosary that Madre Rosa had given him a couple of weeks earlier before he had gone to LA to track down Barkowski. He didn't want to go to Mexico. He didn't want to have to kill Diego. But he did want to get Will back and protect the rest of his family and if it took him dying to assure their safety then that would be the cost. It wasn't the first time he had put his life on the line. He had spent four years in Iraq and Afghanistan living in God awful conditions while being shot, bombed, and mortared; all was done for the country and the people that he loved. Right at that moment he would gladly strangle the entire Department of Justice for not helping him safely and legally prevent Diego from wiping out him and his family. He flat out didn't have a choice in the matter.

By the time he had crossed the bridge, he was getting back into a combat frame of mind. He was taking slow deep breaths, beginning to think more clearly, and trying to look relaxed.

Passing through the border inspection was a breeze and he was soon exiting onto Avenida 15 de Junio.

Wade's bar was less than a mile away from the pedestrian bridge; he had double checked the location while en route to Laredo and took a zig zag path that gave him opportunities to duck into doorways to make sure that he wasn't being followed. It took a little longer but his plan was to hit Diego after dark anyway. He was hoping that he would be able to get a vehicle from Pablo Escamilla. If not, he would take one.

The bar was doing a brisk business. Music drifted out onto the street as did laughter. He paused outside the bar, took a quick look around and then entered, stopping inside the door. It was too dark with his sunglasses on and he lowered them. No one seemed to even notice he was there. Carefully avoiding bumping into anyone, he edged toward the bar and caught the attention of one of the barmaids. She smiled brightly. " _¿Qué puedo traerte?_ "

" _Una cerveza, por favor."_ She popped the top on a bottle of Corona, put a lime slice on the rim, and slid it across to him. He passed over a couple of dollars and she looked at them briefly, then flashed him another smile. After putting the lime in, he took a long swig and looked around. The walls were covered with photographs, some black and white, some color. One in particular behind the bar caught his eye: it was a picture of Wade with a younger, heavy set man and they were holding up a framed peso and dollar bill while shaking hands. _Must be Escamilla_. The barmaid returned a few minutes later and as he pointed at the picture he asked, " _¿Quiénes son los hombres en la foto?"_

She turned and looked. Smiling she replied in Spanish that the heavy man was the current owner, Escamilla. The other man had been his partner but was now dead.

He continued the conversation in Spanish. "Is Escamilla around?"

"Yes." She wiped down the bar and looked at him curiously.

"Can I talk to him, please?" After a slight pause, she nodded and then disappeared into a door at the end of the bar. In a minute she was back with the man in the photo, several years older and a few pounds heavier. The moment he saw Matt he got a shocked look on his face and then smiled, waving him on back.

Neither man spoke until they were behind the closed door of the office. "My God, you look like your dad!" He shook Matt's hand. "But you have your mother's coloring. It's good to meet you."

"Thanks."

"Please, take a seat." He continued to smile at Matt, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I just can't get over the resemblance. You're a little taller, though." Matt smiled as he removed the sunglasses and put them in his pocket.

"I need to ask for a favor."

"Sure."

"I need a car. Or truck. Preferably one that you're not sentimentally attached to…"

"Ah hah." Escamilla leaned back in the chair. "You are here on business?"

"I am. My cousin has been kidnapped and I'm here to take him home."

"Oh, boy." The bar owner looked nervous. "Please don't tell me that it's Las Serpientes."

"Yup."

" _Madre de Dios!"_ He instantly popped out in a sweat. "My friend, do you have any idea…"

"I do. If you don't have a car just point me to where I might get one quick with no questions."

Pablo thought for a minute. "I tell you what. My brother Marco might have a car." He picked up the phone and made a call that lasted only a couple of minutes, then hung up with a smile on his face. "No problem. He's a mechanic and people sometimes do not pay when their cars are fixed."

"I sure appreciate it."

"Now, where are you going to get your cousin?"

"Diego Mendoza's place southwest of here." This piece of information got him another shocked look.

"Look, Mattlock…" He paused. "I have not said that name in a long time." A look of sadness passed over him. "The gang is very powerful. One man alone cannot hope to-"

"I've got to take that chance."

"Do you have a weapon?" The answer was a negative shake of the head. He hesitated for a moment and then turned to an ancient wall safe and began working the tumbler. After a moment of digging he emerged with something wrapped in a rag and handed it across to the younger man. "It is yours after all."

"Mine?" Matt carefully peeled back the grease rag to reveal an M1911A1. He froze. "Was this-" His voice faltered.

" _Sí,_ it was your father's." Pablo closed the safe and sat back in the chair. "I could not mail it to you with the other items - government regulations."

He ran his hand over the diamond pattern on the wood grips. It looked to be in near perfect condition. Gently, he ejected the magazine, found it to be empty as was the chamber, and popped it back inside. The slide worked flawlessly. He looked up as Escamilla handed over a box of .45 ammunition. "Thank you."

"You will need it for sure." The older man shook his head. "It is madness, you know - going to his _hacienda_."

"Well, I'm more than a little mad." Matt ejected the magazine again and loaded it.

"You have no one to help you?"

"Not on this side of the border."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Somewhat." He sat the pistol on the desk. "Now, if I can ask for one more favor."

"Yes?"

"I need a cell phone. Nothing fancy. I didn't want to stop to pick one up on the way here. For all I know, Mendoza's people have spotted me."

"I will go down the street and get you one. Wait here." He hustled out of the office and Matt once again picked up the pistol, thinking back to when he and Wade had been on the run from Elgin Cody and the dirty cops that he had had working for him. _Not just any cops,_ he thought to himself. _Harris County deputies_. What would his father think about him carrying a badge for the same department now? He gave a small chuckle and then frowned as he remembered how Wade had stepped in front of a bullet intended for him and died shortly thereafter. _Is that how it's going to be for me - taking a bullet so my kids won't have to?_ Drawing in a deep breath he thought about the kids: Catey Rose with her mother's eyes, Vinny and Mike who were like little carbon copies of him, Tomás with his quiet ways and fantastic artistic abilities, and Brian who had already lost so much in his life to violence.

Pablo returned after half an hour with a plain flip phone. "It will get the job done."

"I appreciate it." Matt turned it on, went to the text function, and after punching in CJ's cell phone number sent her a message. _I made it. Love you._ He waited, almost holding his breath. Would she reply if she didn't recognize the number? The phone suddenly vibrated and he read the reply. _Love you. Kick his ass_. A big smile crossed his face and he chuckled.

Back in Houston, CJ stared at her phone and waited. The reply came fairly quickly. _The plan is to get across the river at the place that I showed y'all at El Cinizo. Give the others this number. I may call for help later._ She acknowledged it, wiped away tears and then sent the number on like he had requested.


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

"Are you sure about this?" Pablo Escamilla had just brought an old tan 1980 Toyota pickup to the back of the bar and handed Houston the key.

"I don't have any choice." The PI looked around outside; the alley was empty except for the two of them. It was nearly 7:15 and there was about forty five minutes until sundown. "I really appreciate it, Pablo."

"I'm sorry I can't do more." He held his hand out to Matt, then pulled the younger man into a hug, patting his back. "You really are like your father. He was stubborn, too." The last was said with a sad smile.

"Tell you what…" He slid behind the wheel of the pickup and closed the door. "One day after this is all over we're going to sit down over a bottle of tequila and you can tell me about him. Deal?"

"Deal." Pablo stepped back as Houston started the little truck, put it in reverse and backed out of the alley. With another quick wave he shifted into first gear and headed toward Mendoza's place. " _Vaya con Dios_."

Diego Mendoza stood outside his home as a black Impala pulled up. Two men exited the vehicle and went to the trunk where the lid was being kicked. They opened it and as they reached in for Will, both received a kick to the nose. Once over the shock, one man grabbed his arms while the other took his legs and they dumped the man onto the driveway. His hands and feet were bound and they both kicked at him for a minute before their boss stopped them. "Well, Mr. Houston. Welcome to my humble home." He grinned down at the American. "I trust you enjoyed the trip down?"

"You son of a bitch." Will spit out blood.

"Take him to the garage. He can wait there for his cousin." He watched as Will once again struggled with the two men but was carried off to the building and tossed on the floor.

It was sweltering in the building, but he looked around hopefully. If he could find something to cut the ropes he was going to try to get the hell out of there. _First thing you need to do is try to calm down._ He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a minute. _Now, look around you._ Opening his eyes, he systematically began scanning the area, rolling onto his opposite side to look at the back wall. There was a tool bench along the northern wall and he began scooting that way.

"There he is!" CJ yelled and Roy came running into the study along with Rosa. "It's Will!" They watched helplessly as the man put up a fight with the men pulling him from the trunk.

"Way to go, boy. Give 'em hell." Roy felt a flash of pride as he watched his son kick the two men before he was thrown on the ground and kicked. "Sons of bitches." Will was carried into one of the buildings and Mendoza went back into the house.

CJ texted Matt telling him that Will was in fact at Mendoza's and was tied up in an outbuilding on the northwest side of the house. It took a few minutes for a reply. _On my way there now. Got a tan truck._

Roy watched as she zoomed out a little bit and began scanning the roads nearby. It was nearly dark and getting hard to see. Finally, she pointed to a spot on the screen. The road was nearly deserted and a small tan truck was moving quickly toward the Mendoza estate. Before it arrived the picture was lost; the headlights were cut off and all she could see were the lights from the house.

Matt killed the lights on the pickup and stopped a quarter of a mile from Diego's gate. There were no trees to hide behind; the only vegetation in the desert area was scrub. He knew that they were going to need the truck to make an escape. He also knew that the easiest way into the estate would be to drive the truck right through the wire fencing that surrounded the property. What he didn't know and hadn't been able to discern by watching the satellite was did Diego have surveillance cameras on the property? Or did he strictly rely on his people? During his time watching the comings and goings at the estate, Matt had only seen a couple of guards on duty at night: one stationed at the gate and one that circled the house. That was assuming that they continued the same routine after sundown. After dark he could only use his imagination. Plus, did Diego know that he was on his way? Had anyone in Nuevo Laredo seen him and tipped off the gangster?

Regardless, he knew that at last sighting Will was in a building on the northwest side of the house. During his surveillance he had concluded that it was a garage. _Maybe Will can find something to get loose._ He drew a deep breath, started the engine, and slowly edged off the road toward the northwest. There was a pair of bolt cutters in the passenger seat and he could use them to cut the fence. Did Diego have an alarm on it? Who knew? He would get through the fence, get to the garage, get Will, and...He still needed to take out Diego. "Damn it." Will's kidnapping hadn't been something that he had figured on. His plan was going to have to change.

Topsana watched in horror from her bedroom window as the men down below kicked the man that they had pulled from the trunk. He was the one that she had seen two nights before in her dreams. After they took him to the garage Angelita softly knocked on her door. "Come in."

" _Señora_ , they took the man-"

"Yes, I saw." She stood and sighed heavily. "I will go check on him as soon as it is dark."

"No…" The young woman violently shook her head. "Your grandson will be furious."

"It will be okay, _niña."_ She patted her arm. "Things are about to change. I want you to stay inside. There will be a disturbance but you will be fine."

Out in the garage, Will was desperately trying to stand so that he could reach the top of the tool bench. Finally he managed to get his chest resting on the seat of a chair. He paused for a minute trying to catch his breath in the stifling heat. Suddenly his mind flashed back to Afghanistan. He froze, closing his eyes and forcing himself back to the present. "Snap out of it. You know damn well that Matt is gonna show up." Calming, he stood up and surveyed the work bench. Ratchets, screwdrivers...his eyes landed on a file. "Bingo." Leaning forward he used his teeth to grab it. Dropping it into the chair he gave a satisfied chuckle before sitting down and grabbing it. "This could take a while." He blew out a breath.

Topsana silently made her way down the stairs, and could hear Diego laughing in the den. She knew that his top men were there with him and nodded. That was just as her dream had told her. Stepping out onto the patio behind the house she saw the sentry coming around the corner.

" _Señora_ , you should not be out." He approached the little old lady.

"Luis, it is such a beautiful night that I wanted to see the stars! Just look at them." She took a seat in one of the chairs by the pool.

" _Sí,_ but you should go in."

"I will in a few minutes. Thank you." Smiling sweetly she watched him turn toward the far end of the house. Once he was out of sight she made her way to the garage as quickly as possible and slipped inside.

Will almost had the ropes cut when a little old lady snuck into the garage. He held his breath and was surprised when she spoke English. "Good evening."

"Uh, hi." He gave her a smile, not knowing what in the hell else to do.

"Let me help you with that." She took the file and finished sawing the ropes with it. "Now, where is your cousin?"

"Ma'am?" He had no idea what to answer: she seemed nice and had helped him lose the ropes but was it a trap?

"Your cousin Matt. I'm sure he's on the way." She gave an almost girlish giggle. "He's my grandson."

Will could feel his jaw drop but was too stunned to close his mouth. It took a few seconds for his brain to kick back in and when it did he stammered. "You're...his grandmother. You're Carmen's mom?" The answer was a nod. "Does he know you're here?"

"I don't believe so. Not many people do. I've been held here ever since my son took control of the family. He kept me isolated here and now Diego does as well. But not anymore. Not after tonight." She was smiling again and he couldn't help but smile along, wondering just how in the hell that he and Matt were going to get across the border and now they had an old lady to smuggle as well?

Both jumped as there was a sound at the back of the building. Matt had picked the lock on the door and slipped into the near darkness of the garage. "Will, you in here?"

"Yeah, and I'm not alone." He heard as his cousin's progress was halted. "Your grandma is here with me."

Matt came forward, a pistol in his hand and look of complete astonishment on his face. "My grandma?"

"Yes, Mattlock. I'm Topsana, your grandma." She moved toward him, reaching up to run her hand over the cheek of the grandson she had only seen on TV and in the newspapers.

"My…" He couldn't think. Looking into her eyes he could see his were an exact match. Quickly, he pulled her into a hug and felt as if his heart would explode. "I've been wondering what happened to you."

"Fernando and Diego have kept me here ever since we left Chihuahua." She held his hand in both of her own. "But there isn't time for all that now. We've got to get you two out of here."

Matt paused. His plans had just done a one hundred eighty degree turn.

"I've got a truck out back. Come on." All thought of squaring up with Diego was gone: he had to get Will and Topsana out of there. If he could make it back to the bar…

Just then the front door of the garage was opened by Diego and several of his men rushed inside. Matt couldn't begin to shoot at all of them, not with Will and his grandmother in harm's way.

"And so we finally meet, cousin." Diego gave an evil smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

Outside the garage, Diego began laughing once again. "The all powerful Matt Houston is standing in front of me." The trip out of the garage had not been peaceful; both Matt and Will had been beaten and Topsana had been roughly dragged out with them to stand in the harsh flood lights outside the house. Diego looked at the pistol that had been taken from his cousin while several weapons had been pointed at his grandmother. He then carelessly tossed it on the ground. "Junk." He turned his attention back to his captives. "Now here is how this will work. You will call and begin having money transferred into my accounts."

"Don't do it, cuz." Will received another blow to the belly and was doubled over.

"Give him a reminder of who is in charge." He motioned to some of the men. With two men pinning his arms, another began beating him again.

"Stop!" Matt watched as some particularly brutal blows rained down on Will. "I'll do it."

Diego began laughing again. "I knew you would come to your senses." He next turned his attention to his grandmother. "And you, you stupid old fool. I think your usefulness has come to an end." Viciously he slapped her, knocking her to the ground.

Antonio sprang in front of him. "No!"

Matt and Will struggled furiously with their captors but couldn't break free.

"What?" The gangster looked at his second in command incredulously.

"I said no. She's an old woman." He knelt to help Topsana to her feet and a shot rang out, hitting him in the left side. He fell to the ground. "You do not tell me what to do." Diego stepped closer, the pistol still pointed at the other man.

"Diego, please!" Topsana reached to try to protect Antonio but was roughly kicked aside by her grandson.

"I think it is time for a change in personnel." He fired another shot, this one hitting Antonio in the chest. Topsana crawled back to him and tried to put pressure on the wounds.

" _Señora,_ please forgive me. I did it - I killed your son. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

"I already have, Antonio." She smiled down at him through her tears, desperately trying to stop the bleeding but knowing even as she did so that it wasn't going to help in the least. In just a matter of seconds his eyes became dull and he took one last ragged breath.

"How touching!" Diego cackled again.

"You can stop this now, _nieto_." Topsana got back to her feet. "It's not too late for you to ask for forgiveness as well."

"I don't beg forgiveness from anyone." Once again he struck the woman and sent her sprawling as Will and Matt began struggling again. He pointed the pistol at her chest and pulled the trigger.

"No!" Matt screamed out and managed to free himself from one of the men holding him. He punched the other in the face and made a dive for his father's pistol, shooting both of the men who had been holding him. At the same time Will took advantage of the struggle to break free himself and was doing his damnedest to beat them. Another shot rang out from Diego's pistol and he received a crease in the calf.

Matt was now drawing down on the gangster and the two cousins faced each other. "Y'all let him go or your boss gets it!" This caused the other gang members to stop their efforts with Will and turn their attention in Diego's direction.

"I tell you what, cousin. You are supposed to be such a cowboy…" He backed away a few paces as Matt got back to his feet. "Let's settle it like they did in the old west." The other gang members looked at each other and grinned. Their leader had a reputation of being fast with a gun. They began laughing and turned their attentions away from Will who was crawling toward Topsana. The old woman was still alive, gasping for breath.

"Fine." Houston took a deep breath. He had known all along that it was likely to come down to this very thing. Diego's ego wouldn't let him be happy any other way. The other gangsters now held their weapons loosely as the show was about to begin.

"You will do nothing." Diego spoke to his men. "He is mine and I will be the one to kill him."

Will watched as Matt's eyes narrowed. He had seen that look many times while they served together in the Army.

"You're the one who does nothing, Diego. You send these people out to do your bidding and put them in danger. When was the last time you actually did any dirty work yourself? You sent your own son - your own flesh and blood - to try to kill me in Laredo." He turned slightly, placing his left foot forward a bit to give Diego less of a target.

"He was nothing to me. A bastard. A mistake. Nothing more."

Diego's men turned their attention to their boss, questioning looks on their faces. He had ranted over the fact that Houston had killed his son and now this? They exchanged looks.

"So why in the hell did you want to kill me? Why get Barkowski and Lynch and Perrier together? Why didn't you just come after me yourself?" There was no reply. Matt continued. "I'll tell you why: because you didn't have the balls to take care of me yourself. That's why you have these guys. I don't know why in the hell they think you're so tough or why they think you give a damn what happens to them. You've never cared about anybody but yourself your whole life, Diego." The words had the desired effect: the men were staring angrily at their boss and while his face colored and his nostrils flared, he jerked up the pistol and fired at Matt, hitting him in the right side of the chest. But Houston's shot was right on target: it hit the drug kingpin directly in the heart. He fell heavily to the ground without so much as a groan, dead before his face landed in the dirt.

Will used the distraction to grab an AR-15 from the nearest man and opened fire on them. Four dropped to the ground dead and the others retreated toward the house. Matt scrambled to where Topsana lay on the ground, her breathing even more labored and her face now chalk white.

"We're gonna get you out of here and get some help." Matt was fighting back tears as she shook her head no.

"This is where it ends, Mattlock. I have seen it in my dreams for over a year now." She saw the shock on his face. "You have them, too, don't you?"

He nodded and spoke to Will. "Get the truck down here before they come back." Will limped off as quickly as possible to retrieve the Toyota while Matt tried to staunch the bleeding. "We're getting you out of here."

"No. Promise me you will leave me here." She was fading fast as Matt heard the motor on the truck. "I'm at peace now. I love you." She smiled up at him.

"I love you." He squeezed her hand as he smiled through tear filled eyes. She quietly sighed and went limp, her eyes closing just as Will pulled the truck up even with him.

"Cuz, we gotta get her loaded. Here they come again."

"She's gone." He quickly leaned over and kissed her cheek, picked up a rifle that was lying on the ground next to one of the dead men, and then dove into the bed of the truck as the Las Serpientes members came roaring around the other end of the house in a truck and a Jeep opening fire on them. Breathing was becoming more difficult as Will handed back a rifle that he had picked up and Matt braced himself against the bed of the truck on his knees as he returned fire before pulling out the cell phone and sending a mass text that he had drafted earlier: _911_. "Head east!" He had memorized the dirt roads that led from the estate to the river and as he fired occasional shots at the men following them he explained to his cousin how to get there. As the Jeep that was following them topped a small rise in the desert landscape he got lucky and took out both of the front tires. The resulting loss of forward momentum not only stopped the vehicle, it tossed out the gunner in the back. Matt saw him land on his head in the headlights that danced crazily in the dust stirred up by their escape.

"Almost there!" Will could now see a couple of lights up ahead from houses on the other side of the river and something else that made his heart leap for joy: the flashing lights of what he imagined were border patrol vehicles. He dove off of the dirt road and onto a pathway that led straight to the river as Matt continued to fire at their attackers, and in a minute he threw on the brakes. The cousins ran the short distance to the river bank and as they dove into the Rio Grande the Toyota's gas tank was hit and the truck exploded. Matt felt shards of metal and glass hit his body before he impacted the water and heard a grunt from Will at the same time.

He gulped in a big breath of air just before landing in the river and when he surfaced, looked back over his shoulder at the flaming heap that had been the tan Toyota. In the light from the flames he could see Will struggling and swam back to him. Wrapping his arm around his cousin's chest, he began swimming backward with all his might as the truck pulled up to the river bank and more shots were fired in their direction.

Two Border Patrol boats were roaring down the river in their direction with lights and sirens blasting. The occupants of the boats then came under fire from the Mexican bank and a battle raged as they inserted themselves between the Houstons and Las Serpientes. He recognized the voice of Sergeant Mark Traughber on one of the boats.

Matt had measured the distance between the banks of the Rio Grande during his planning and knew that it was less than three hundred feet, but with the swift current, the weight of Will, and his own injuries he wasn't sure that he was going to make it. When he was about halfway across he heard a familiar yell, and a couple of splashes as someone on the US side jumped into the rapidly flowing river. "We're almost there, cuz! We're almost there!" He yelled at Will and could hear Chuck Wylie's voice as he cussed with every stroke he took.

In what felt like a lifetime, Matt could hear Chuck getting closer and was relieved when he grabbed Will under his left arm. The amount of work dropped immensely and he then realized that the other swimmer was Francine. She placed herself between her two detectives and the gunfire that was still issuing from the Mexican side and did her best to guard them with her pistol, firing in that direction.

There was more splashing now as other hands reached down to haul the men from the river and Matt could feel himself beginning to fade as he was brought up on the bank. He raised his head up to check on Will and saw that he had a large gash in his neck and EMTs were performing CPR on him. All went black.

Chuck piled into the waiting ambulance with Will as the EMT continued to try to resuscitate the man. Chris Oakley slammed the door shut and the vehicle took off. Matt was being loaded onto a gurney and was in and out of consciousness. He grabbed Francine's hand and tugged the pistol out of his waistband and thrust it at her. "Please…"

"I've got it, Houston. Don't worry." She nodded as he looked pleadingly at her. In a matter of seconds he was out again and being loaded into the second ambulance on scene as she clambered into the back with him. The gunfire had finally stopped on the Mexican side.


	14. Chapter 14

**14**

The heat shimmered up off of the desert floor, the waves seeming to emanate straight from hell. He removed the white straw hat and wiped his brow, removed a canteen from the saddle horn and took a quick sip from it, then poured some into his hand for Jasper. The horse drank appreciatively and after refilling his hand three more times, Matt put the top back on the container and replaced it on the saddle. They continued their journey, now starting up a steep slope with loose rocks. Just as they would start to make progress the rocks would turn loose and they would slip back down to where they had started. The cycle kept repeating itself. Each time they slid back down he heard a scream and there was a flash of bright light. He tried to pick another path but the result was the same: they kept sliding downward.

Finally, he removed the canteen again and took another drink and once again shared with the horse. "Boy, I don't know what to do. Something's got to give. We can't keep on like this." Removing his hat to wipe away the sweat, he shaded his eyes from the brutal sunlight holding it so he could look up to the top of the mountains. He realized that they weren't that far from the top. "C'mon, Jasper. We can do this." Digging in with all the strength he could muster he once again began the climb. This time he and the buckskin made it to the top. The light got even brighter and he squinted.

"Come on, baby." CJ was leaning over the rail of the hospital bed, a worried look on her face as she stroked his cheek. "Come on and wake up for me, Cowboy. You can do it." His eyes fluttered open and she felt her heart skip a beat. "There you go." Tears began to fall as she smiled down at him. "Welcome back."

He tried to speak but couldn't get anything out for the damn tube in his throat. Her hand was gripping his and he squeezed it, as his memory came flooding back to him. He and Will had gotten back to the US side of the border. But his cousin was hurt. He looked into her eyes and tried to make her understand: _what about Will_?

Another familiar voice was heard and he moved his eyes a little further to the left: Uncle Roy was standing next to her, his face very pale with dark circles around what were normally bright piercing eyes. But they weren't bright; there was a painful look in them and Matt immediately knew the truth. He began kicking and trying to pull the tube from his throat and heard as a nearby nurse called for help. In a minute there was a burning sensation in his left arm and the world went black once again.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds on the window and he lay watching it for a minute trying to figure out where he was. He hurt like hell and it was this that made him remember. Jerking, he tried to sit up and his left arm was immediately grabbed by CJ. "Don't do it, Matt. They'll knock you out again. Calm down." A nurse entered the cubicle, the alert from his heart monitor tipping her off to something unusual. CJ smiled over at the woman. "It's okay. He just woke up with a start. It's fine now."

"I'll let Dr. Preston know." She left as quickly as she had come.

His voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Will…" The look on her face became grave again.

"Baby…" She looked down at his hands, both of them in her own as she continued to stroke them. Tears began falling as she shook her head. "He didn't make it, sweetie."

He closed his eyes, the feeling of a weight crushing down on his chest and he couldn't breathe. He gasped, his body and his mind both rebelling at what she had said.

"Matt, you need to calm down. I know you're upset, baby - we all are. But you really can't get excited right now." She stroked his face as the tears began to fall.

A doctor came in and began trying to ask him stupid questions: do you know who you are? Do you know what happened? He couldn't talk. It felt like his whole world was crashing down around him and the jackass wanted to know if he remembered? How could he forget? Tears cascaded down his face. He could feel them splashing into his ears and running down onto the pillow. There were other people around who could see him and ordinarily he wouldn't even think about crying; right now he didn't give a damn who knew or saw. Will was gone.

They tried to come give him another sedative and CJ convinced them to hold off on it, just for a little while. She knew Matt better than almost anyone and also knew that the sooner that he confronted the truth the better off he would be - or so she hoped. All she could do was try to comfort him, hold his hand, stroke his face, push the sweaty curls off his forehead - anything that would let him know that he wasn't alone. She was with him and wasn't going anywhere.

Several long minutes passed with worried nurses flitting in and out of the small cubicle and finally his tears began to slow and his breathing became closer to normal. She looked up at the door and then back down at him. "Chuck and Francine are here. Okay?" He nodded, trying to pull himself together as she wiped his face with a tissue.

Chuck's worried face appeared over him and Francine right next to him. "Pard…" The detective didn't know what to say. He had known Will just about as long as Matt. They had spent summers together playing in the woods, fishing and swimming in the river, riding horses...all the things three boys could do. He took Matt's hand.

Matt finally choked out a word. "Thanks."

"Anytime, man. You know that. I've always got your back."

Matt's gaze shifted to the sheriff. "You, too."

"Anytime." Although she was doing her best to keep a smile on her face there were tears brimming near the surface.

"My grandmother." Talking was painful. He had a severe pain in the right side of his chest and the upset and stress weren't helping.

"Your grandmother?" CJ leaned closer.

"He killed her. Shot her."

"Diego?" Chuck looked shocked.

"She's there at the estate."

CJ and the other two shared a look.

"Babe, I've got to take care of her." He looked to his wife.

"I'll find out who I need to talk to, baby." She took a cloth and dabbed at his forehead and her voice sounded like it was a long ways away. He closed his eyes again.

Matt's sense of time was off. That was one of the things he hated most about hospitals - no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to keep it straight in his head. With all the sedatives and painkillers it was nearly impossible. The thoughts of what had happened kept rolling around in his mind from the time that he crossed into Mexico until CJ had told him about Will. They were like a wheel in constant motion. Even when he was asleep it kept on turning.

Roy came to see him after he was moved into the private room and he couldn't look him in the eye. He felt like he had failed him again. Will was the one who had been captured and held prisoner in Afghanistan. Will was the one who suffered from PTSD and nearly committed suicide when he got back home. Will was the one who had been kidnapped and dragged off to Mexico because of Matt. And now Will was the one who was dead. There was no rescue mission that could bring him back to Roy again, absolutely nothing Matt could do to ease his pain. The only thing he knew to say to the man was, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Matt." Roy sat down in the chair that CJ moved closer to the bed for him. He watched as the younger man stared down at his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"There wasn't anything that you could have done, boy. You know that. Nobody blames you - least of all me. You brought him home to me." He choked up and grabbed his nephew's hand. "He almost made it. It wasn't your fault."

Matt just shook his head.

"Mattlock, I've never been more proud of both of you. You fought so hard…" He paused to get his voice under control. "You fought together. Those Las Serpientes bastards blew up the truck and glass from one of the windows cut his neck.' He watched as Matt continued to shake his head. "I blame them. They took him and they blew up the truck."

"I'm sorry."

Roy sat for three hours just holding his hand. Neither one spoke.

"Everybody will understand if you don't go, hon." CJ was about to tie his tie for him since he couldn't raise his right arm. He shook his head. "Okay, but if you change your mind all you have to do is say so."

They left the hotel room and made their way slowly to the elevator where Vince was waiting for them. He held the door for the couple and pushed the button after the doors closed. Sneaking a glance at Matt, he didn't like what he saw. The pale complexion was to be expected - he had nearly bled to death from the gunshot wound plus the shrapnel from the truck that had invaded his body. It was his eyes that got to Vince. There was a hollow look to them and the phrase "thousand yard stare" seemed appropriate. The man was going to need some help to get past this.

The trip through the lobby of the five star resort hotel went well enough, but when they got outside in the Arizona heat it was a media frenzy. Everybody wanted a word with the man who had caused an international incident. The US and Mexico were both pointing fingers and there had been threats of charges against the American billionaire by the foreign government. He hadn't heard any of it: he stared straight ahead, not noticing any of the reporters, and moved like a sleepwalker. Tamara Placer had filed report after report blaming him for setting back relations with Mexico a hundred years.

When they arrived at the cemetery for the graveside service there was a large police presence. Reporters were not allowed on the grounds and the limo whisked through the gates. Matt exited the car slowly and made his way across to the gravesite and had a seat next to Roy under the canopy. Mama reached over and patted his arm but received no reaction.

When the service began Matt could hear the preacher's voice but none of the words made sense to him. It seemed that everything was going on around him at the speed of light but his brain was moving at a snail's pace. CJ's hand was firmly in his and had been the entire time since they had left the hotel room. She was his rock.

The flag draped casket was in front of him, the honor guard standing by, and a crowd of friends drew close around the grave. Chuck and Lisa were seated next to CJ with Francine Martinez. Michael Hoyt was immediately behind Matt as was Lee Jennings. George McSwain sat on Michael's left and then Mark Traughber, Chris Oakley, Alex Bateaux, Rich Holt, Don MacLemore, and Mitchell Gunterson filled out the rest of the row. Even Murray and Chris Chase had attended. There was a large turnout from the Harris County Sheriff's Office as well as Border Patrol. When at last the sermon was done, the flag was folded and brought to Roy who quietly broke down. It wasn't until the honor guards' rifles broke the near silence that Matt reacted at all. He jumped at each of the three volleys, closed his eyes, and then slowly opened them. It was over.

They immediately went from the cemetery to the airport where Vince took charge of the jet and headed them back to Texas. Matt reclined in one of the seats and stared out the window as CJ worriedly watched him. He hadn't spoken a word all day and had seemingly not recognized anyone at the funeral who approached and offered their condolences. Michael had tried talking to him but Matt just stared at the casket with the faraway look in his eye.

He fell asleep and she took a blanket and covered him up. She went into the cockpit with Vince and sat down, leaning the cane that she was now using instead of crutches against her knee.

"How's he doing?" He looked over at her. She had managed to keep it together all during Houston's hospital stay and at the funeral.

"Not good." Pulling out her phone she made a call to Los Angeles to the psychiatrist that Matt had seen before and referred Will to after his latest bout of PTSD. After explaining the events of the last week to the man she sat and listened for a minute and then thanked him. "He's going to fly down tomorrow."

"That's some good news." He looked over at her and saw as her face just seemed to melt. It started quietly with silent tears sliding down her face. Punching the autopilot he turned to her and pulled her into a hug as the dam broke. "Easy now."

After several minutes she tried to dry her eyes. "What if…" She couldn't stand the thought. "What if this is it? Maybe he's been through too much. What if he just can't take anything else?"

Although he had been wondering the same thing himself there was no way he was going to say it to her. "CJ, he's the strongest person I know. He's been through a lot of strain over the last year: the contract that was out on him, the back surgery, then taking down Lynch, Barkowski, Perrier, and now Diego. Then with what happened to his grandmother and Will…" He paused. "He needs some time and to talk to the shrink. I think getting back to Texas and the kids will help." _I hope like hell that it does_ he thought to himself _._

She nodded. "I'm worried about Madre Rosa, too."

"Well, she's a strong lady. And so are you." He put a finger under her chin and raised her face to look in her eyes. "But everybody needs a break now and then. I'm always here if you need to talk, okay?" The answer was a nod and a hug. She sat for a couple of minutes to regain her composure, then kissed his cheek and went back out to keep an eye on her husband.


End file.
